


Mi Hoish

by HopeStoryteller



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, I have made an Attempt, Pre-Relationship, and by that I mean the ship name is Watching The World Burn, how could I NOT try to write it myself at some point?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 04:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30100458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeStoryteller/pseuds/HopeStoryteller
Summary: Salem has some thoughts, and unintentionally crosses paths with someone she for one never intended to.
Relationships: Salem/Yang Xiao Long
Kudos: 10





	Mi Hoish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flamesong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamesong/gifts).



In the chaos of a Grimm invasion, quite a few things—or people—lurking in the shadows can easily pass unnoticed. This one is no exception. And so, a shadowy figure lurks indeed, creeping through the night filled with cries of sabyrs and nevermores, searching for something.

What is she searching for? Who can say? Perhaps she is searching for nothing in particular. Perhaps she is merely taking a walk. Or perhaps she is looking for some _ one. _

The figure walks past an alleyway thick with the scent of fear and panic. It is immediately evident, upon a cursory glance within,  _ why _ it is thick with the scent of fear and panic: there is a sabyr, creeping ever closer to some defenseless person or other. She makes herself ignore it, for she does not have time to waste. Every second she lingers down in Mantle is a second she can be missed, and she  _ cannot be missed. _

“Help! Somebody,  _ please! _ Anybody, help me, please, _ ” _ comes the cry from within the alleyway. And  _ that— _ that gives her pause. That was not the cry of an adult, nor anything approaching it. That was the cry of a child.

The terrified faces of her daughters flash in her mind, unbidden. Iryllia. Osenne. Serava. Tylleyn. She could not save them, in the end. She had not been enough.

She  _ should _ not save whoever this is. But her mission can be delayed by the matter of moments it takes to deal with one measly sabyr. And so, she turns on her heel and raises her hands to cast. Purple swirls into being within her grasp, before taking on the iridescent multicolor of combat magic, and then—

And then, it dissipates into nothing with a flick of her wrist, because  _ some idiot _ launched themself down on top of the sabyr. Some idiot, who she must admit is an  _ effective _ idiot, because the sabyr dissolves just as neatly as her magic had. They—perhaps she?—reloads her gauntlets. Bright yellow hair left foolishly unbound cascades down her back.

“Hey!” The… huntress, for what else can this girl be, calls to the child in the alleyway. The child, who cannot be much older than Iryllia had been, who is clutching a stuffed cat to her chest with wide eyes. “You okay? Come on, we need to move.”

The child nods, eyes no less wide. She does not move.

The huntress sighs, walks closer to the little girl, and gets down on her knees. “Hey. I know you’re scared. Hell,  _ I’m _ scared, and it’s my  _ job _ to fight these things. But you’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you to a bigger group, and someone who can find your family. Alright?”

The child nods, more hesitantly this time. She whispers, so quietly that it is nearly inaudible, “Who… who are you?”

“Me? I’m gonna just… pick you up real quick if that’s alright?” Upon getting a nod to the affirmative, the huntress lifts the child up by the armpits, swinging them over her shoulder slightly. “I’m Yang Xiao Long, I’m a huntress, and I’m  _ going _ to keep you safe. Alright?”

“...okay,” the child says.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m… I’m Ray—” She lets out an alarmed noise as her stuffed animal falls to the pavement. 

“Whoa! It’s okay, I promise. If any more Grimm show up, I’ll take care of them. Alright?”

From her viewpoint at the alleyway’s entry, the hooded woman who is very much  _ not _ a huntress says, “She dropped her toy.”

Yang spins around so fast that Ray lets out a noise of protest. “She— _ oh!” _ Yang kneels, picks it up, and hands it back to the child. “Thanks. Who are you? Are you her…”

Immediately, the woman shakes her head. “I am not. Nor am I a huntress. Merely… someone heartened to know that not  _ all _ kindness in this world has been extinguished.”

“O… kay!” To Yang’s credit, she only sounds a little bit confused. “Can you fight, or…?”

“You do not need to worry about me.” This statement is not an answer in the sense Yang was likely expecting, but it is enough of an answer that she nods, satisfied.

“Sounds good. Hey, if you  _ can _ fight, we could use more capable hands. Grimm are… well, everywhere. And I know I wouldn’t mind fighting alongside someone so… hmm. Hey, have we met before?”

“No,” the woman says tersely. She calls magic to her fingertips behind her back. She would prefer that no other children are caught in the crossfire of her actions, but if she has no other choice—

“No, ‘course not,” Yang says with a laugh. “I would have remembered someone this pretty.”

And the woman who may or may not be Yang Xiao Long’s mortal (well,  _ immortal) _ enemy stares. She… doesn’t know what she looks like. She doesn’t know what she looks like? Granted, she  _ is _ disguised to an extent, particularly on the  _ visible veins _ front, but… hmm.

“I’m quite flattered,” Salem says with a slight bow. In better circumstances, and if Yang wasn’t who she suspected, perhaps she would actively flirt back. “However, I believe you have a job to do—as do I.”

“Oh, of course.” A nevermore shrieks ahead as if on cue. Yang winces. “I meant what I said about more capable hands.”

“Carry out your mission, and I shall carry out mine. Perhaps we shall meet again, Yang Xiao Long.”

Salem would  _ prefer _ to conserve her magic for later. But, some situations do call for a certain amount of theatrics—particularly when she has realized that this is one of  _ Ozma’s _ lackeys. He won’t have told this Yang anything she didn’t need to know, in his eyes.

Which means, more likely than not, she has no idea there is anyone in the world beside himself and her four ch—the  _ four Maidens _ that can use magic.

For the sake of sowing doubt, perhaps she can spare a  _ little _ magic now. And so, she snaps her fingers, and in an instant reappears on the roof of a nearby building.

Yang looks around, boggled. “What the hell—” She remembers Ray. “Heck. I meant heck.”

The little girl giggles. The huntress, apparently having decided against searching any further, hefts the child against her shoulder and starts walking. She stops, at the entrance to the alleyway, as if considering something.

“Who  _ are _ you?” Yang asks aloud.

Salem does not answer. In fact, Yang’s question will not be answered for quite some time. Not until the next time they meet—and in response to the many other questions in Yang’s gaze, Salem only smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday Flame! :D figured, you know what? it's My Turn to try and write a Salem/Yang oneshot. hope you enjoyed, and I guess you know why I was asking about the names of Salem's daughters now!


End file.
